NORTH ADAMS — Through the comings and goings of surrounding businesses, Jack’s Hot Dog Stand has been on Eagle Street for decades. Jaffros “Jack” Levanos was an immigrant from Greece, arriving in the States with twelve dollars in his pocket, hungry and ready to work. He began with a shoe-shining gig and eventually landed a job at a restaurant called Atlanta, on the corner of what is now American Legion Drive. In 1917 the owner handed the business over to Jaffros. At the time, many other Greek and Italian families were opening pizza restaurants. To avoid stepping on anybody’s toes, Jaffros decided to take the business in a different direction — serving hot dogs and cigarettes.
Soon enough another local business owner, operating a diner out of Jack’s current Eagle Street storefront, reached out to Jaffros for help. And in 1921, he closed Atlanta and joined forces with that person — his soon-to-be-wife Mary — in their restaurant, named National. As the eatery’s popularity increased, word of mouth about “Jack’s place” spread, and “Jack’s Hot Dog Stand” was born.
Back then, before fast food chains came to town, Jack’s became a much-needed breakfast spot for the town’s many mill workers. The restaurant was constantly serving coffee from four-foot-tall urns along with pies and pastries. When the lunch bell rang, Jack’s opened its doors for the midday rush, selling hot dogs and hamburgers for five cents each, or two for seven cents, and becoming known for its steamed buns, a trademark that’s still being served today. Jack’s also served dinner and, on weekends, stayed open late enough to feed the hungry bar crowds. Despite the 19-hour days, Jaffros couldn’t have been more proud of his business. According to grandson and current owner Jeff, “He was there to give the people what they wanted.”
For Jeff, growing up in the family business was challenging, especially when father John was at the helm. “I started working on Saturdays when I was in grammar school, but during high school I would work evenings six days a week.”
Still, those formative years left their mark. After two years of studying marine biology at the University of Miami, Jeff returned home to work at the restaurant, ready (at age 21) to step into his father’s shoes. John, however, wasn’t convinced Jeff was ready and continued running the show, making changes —getting rid of popular menu items and closing early, before dinner — that Jeff did not agree with. It wasn’t until Jeff was in his late 30s, with a family of his own to support, that his father finally gave him complete control of the restaurant.
Jeff’s primary goal for Jack’s was to run it with as much pride as his grandfather had, while also bringing in new ideas. He started keeping the restaurant open again for dinner to attract late-night crowds, museum guests, and regulars. He invested most of his savings into renovating the old building, from top to bottom. “The entire city could fall down but Jack’s will remain standing,” Jeff says.
Some of the old charm remains: the original grills, a milk cooler from the 1940’s, and a stainless-steel countertop that spans half of the restaurant, which Jaffros bought for $2,000 (top dollar at the time) to impress theater patrons. For Jeff, these holdovers will help keep the legacy of his family going for as long as it’s fated to continue — and allow his son Joe, a recent MCLA graduate, to take on the business.
Behind the counter, Jeff’s son Joe is poised, serving half the seating area at once, assembling burgers and dogs with ease. Unlike his own father, Jeff’s approach is to allow Joe to decide what his future holds, with or without the restaurant. “Out of my 45 years here, I’ve had one Saturday off, and that was for my wedding day. I don’t want that for my son,” Jeff says. “No, I work Saturdays so he doesn’t have to.”
Looking at the menu board, first-time customers often laugh and ask for the “real” prices. But these prices are no joke — nothing on the menu currently costs over five dollars. As inflation increases and supply chain issues prevail, prices adjust, but Jack’s notoriously cheap burgers and hot dogs are a multi-generational favorite. “We have customers who ate here as children, in the 1920’s. Grandchildren of people I went to school with eat here. During high school reunions, people always drop in to see us,” Jeff beams. “It makes me happiest to see those customers, the generations of people who have eaten here are incredible.”
North Adams today isn’t nearly as populated as it was 100 years ago, which begs the question — how has Jack’s stayed open while maintaining such low prices? “We learn from our mistakes,” Jeff says. “When I first started offering delivery again, there was no minimum purchase price, so our guy would drive to Williamstown for an order that cost $1.85. We were losing money at that point.” Now the required minimum cost for each order has proven much more cost-effective. He also responded to a customer push for take-out, as the small spot can only fit a dozen chairs along the bar — a move that increases turnover for seats and allows more customers through the door. During the pandemic, take-out was a vital aspect of the business. “The day after we found out we couldn’t have anybody in the restaurant, our take-out orders went through the roof,” Jeff says. Once restaurants were allowed to reopen, the take-out business also helped alleviate challenges to in-house seating due to social distancing requirements.
The pandemic was not the first major struggle facing Jack’s. Jaffros had successfully operated the business through the Great Depression, and John kept it open during World War II. Those experiences have Jeff thinking about what lies ahead for Joe should he choose to follow in his father’s footsteps. “It seems like there’s always something, but every time we pull through it.”
As for the giant carved wooden hot dog that stands before the shop, Jeff sees it as one of the best investments he ever made. “The kids love it. People come by and take pictures with it. I truly think it helps bring in business.”
The current logo for Jack’s also helps — and the story behind it still leaves Jeff in amazement. Turns out Jeff had worked for a man named Al at Arnold Printworks for a time and the two had remained in touch. Later, when the mill closed, Al started his own printing business. As Jeff recalls, one day in the 90’s, Al brought his son to Jack’s for lunch. When they were leaving, the son handed Jeff a drawing of a hot dog wearing a cape and sporting a big J on its chest. “My mind was blown that he came up with something right on the spot like that. I turned right back around to his father and said, ‘We need to print this!’” That logo has remained ever since, adorning merchandise such as t-shirts, hats, and mugs, all available at Jack’s.
To further engage with the community, starting in the 80’s, Jack’s held an annual hot dog-eating contest. All of Eagle Street would close down and local colleges, including North Adams State University and Williams College, would send students to compete. Jack’s also hosted a competition at the Fall Foliage Parade from the early 2000’s. That all stopped in 2020, however, not because of the pandemic but because the restaurant’s insurance carrier refused to cover competitive events. Jeff doesn’t see this as too much of a loss; he doesn’t advise trying to eat 30 hot dogs in one sitting, anyway though he admits the events were fun, albeit “kind of gross,” while they lasted.
Jack’s has recently surpassed a huge landmark — 100 years in business. After some laborious research at the Historical Society, Jeff failed to find any record of his grandfather’s first restaurant but did find documentation from 1921 about the Eagle Street operation. The plan was to celebrate Jack’s century-long success in 2021. Unfortunately, the pandemic had other plans, and the time to celebrate came and went without much of a bang. However, Jeff’s celebration is in his daily successes, the stories his customers tell him about their days visiting Jack’s as a child, and the life he’s built for himself and his family. “Compared to my grandfather, I’m living comfortably,” he says. “I knew I would never be rich off this business, but it would take care of me if I worked for it.”
